Within the Looking Glass
by Lady Kiridia
Summary: They faced each other, red eyes against blue, twilight and light. Both of them heirs to the throne, both future Queens of their countries. Oneshot. Takes place before the events of Twilight Princess.


**A/N: So this is a one-shot inspired by a thought I had for what if Zelda and Midna met while they were children. This is how I imagine it would be like. **

**LoZ is sadly not mine (or else there'd be some notable changes in the storyline ^^).**

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><p><span><strong>Within the Looking Glass<strong>

Light and darkness, sun and moon, earth and sky, whenever something existed there was another that existed in opposite. Each action incurred a reaction. To each push there was a pull. And to their beautiful bright land of Hyrule so there was another, one clouded in twilight, a dim land in comparison, but no less beautiful, or so father had told her.

Huddled underneath her cloak while suffering the pouring rain, Zelda rode astride her horse, Ildris, feeling utterly miserable. She shivered and sneezed. Rubbing her nose with her sleeve, she glanced up at the rider twenty paces before her.

As if sensing her gaze, her father twisted in his saddle. "Keep up, Zelda, we've a ways to go yet."

Frowning, the young Princess kicked her horse into a fast canter. Ildris snorted and picked up speed.

Under normal circumstances going riding with her father, the King, who she knew to be very busy _all_ of the time, was a well-sought privilege for her. In general, being able to spend any time at all with him would have her giddy and excited for hours on end. However, this was not to be a fun-filled excursion. From what little she'd gathered from his vague explanation was that they were to attend a diplomatic meeting, the first he'd ever allowed her to accompany him for.

It was hard not to notice, however, the lack of retinue. For something as important as this she had expected an entourage of soldiers to be surrounding them, protecting them on all sides as they were escorted to their destination. But there was only the two of them. Just her and father.

Crossing the bridge that overlooked Lake Hylia, Zelda leaned over to the side to look down into the abyss to the rippling lake below. Curiously, she searched for any zoras about. She was suddenly yanked upright by her sleeve and she narrowed her eyes, scowling at the smiling man beside her.

"Careful," said the King. "It's over a fifty foot drop to the water. That would be a nasty fall for my poor little girl to take."

Huffing, Zelda wiped her soaked fringe out of her face and kicked Ildris' flanks, the King laughing as she and her stead shot past him. She smiled despite herself. It was good to hear him so happy. These days, with all the difficulties at court and the demands of his Country he barely found any moment to enjoy himself.

At the end of the bridge her father pulled to a stop and dismounted. He then reached up to her and she allowed him to carry her to the ground, taking the reigns of her stallion.

"We walk from hereon," he stated, leading the horses down the path then slapping their rumps to get them going.

Zelda watched the horses careen away and looked at her father. "Won't they get lost?"

"The field's just up ahead," the King explained, motioning with a head jerk. "They know how to protect themselves. Horses can be quite dangerous when angered, and they can outrun any beast they encounter. We have nothing to worry about." Striding forward, he began the trek along a narrow path to the left.

Trusting her father's judgment, she kept in pace behind him as they edged along the lip of the cliff that surrounded the lake.

Eventually the rain petered out, but she was still wet and no less uncomfortable than before, although now she didn't have to contend with the smell of wet horse. It took them close to two hours to navigate to the opposite end, once there Zelda stared in awe at the sight before her.

Sand.

The desert, miles and miles of it, as far as she could see, extending onward until it touched the horizon.

Her father placed a large hand on her shoulder and she craned her head up at him.

"It's so vast," she uttered, astounded by the view.

He nodded grimly. "And dangerous. You must keep close to me, Zelda. Don't wander off and don't be fooled by the images in the sand. They are delusions. Only trust what I tell you to trust. If the heat becomes too unbearable for you tell me at once and we'll rest."

A flare of determination shot through her. Her father had deemed her ready to take this journey with him. She would not disappoint him. "I'm ready, father. I'll be fine."

He caressed her smooth locks of soft brown hair before taking her small hand in his. "Of course you will."

Heart pounding in excitement and trepidation, she stepped into the desert.

The first thing that struck her was the heat. It was unrelenting, it burned at her exposed skin and ate at her energy. In minutes she was panting. She swallowed, wincing at the dryness of her throat.

"Try to breathe with your mouth shut."

She did as he advised, and it helped a little, but not much.

She began to sweat. Dragging her feet it felt more as if her father was pulling her along than she was actually walking. They must have been travelling forever, each dune appearing like the last, an endless sea of sand. Vaguely she wondered where he was taking her. She had asked before they'd left the castle and he had responded that they were going to the Arbiter's Grounds. Whatever and wherever that was.

She felt comforted as her father squeezed her hand. "You know this desert was once inhabited by the Gerudo."

She smiled, albeit half-heartedly. It was hard to focus on anything but the next step when one was so weary. "I know. I've learned all this in history lessons."

And what boring lessons they were. Honestly, it was surprising she remembered as much as she did with how much time she spent daydreaming as Professor Owlan droned on and on.

"Then you'll know they used to be a proud people. Living in the harshest environment known to man, they grew up strong and capable, all of them reared to become hardened warriors," he spoke softly, and Zelda rolled her eyes. She knew all of this. The Gerudo had been a race that both fascinated and intrigued her.

Her father went on, ignoring the huff of exasperation that escaped her mouth. "They were once great, but there was something that stunted them, that prevented them from becoming far greater. Do you know what that is?" he asked.

Zelda didn't even have to think about it, the answer clear on her tongue. "They could only birth female children."

"Correct," said her father, grasping her arm as he helped her down yet another dune so she wouldn't slide. It was then that she realized that by talking he was passing the time quicker, drawing her attention away from the sweltering heat and her sore feet in their tight boots.

"There was a time they believed this to be a blessing. Man's worth held very little to them. Men were weak in comparison to women who they believed were created in the image of the great Goddesses of Hyrule. Not even their Kings were fully accepted by their customs, as they were often degraded and used as a scapegoat to blame when hard times fell upon them. It was only later that they realized the err in this. There had always been tension among the Gerudo and the rest of the Hyruleans, and as they became more unpopular it became more difficult for them to seduce men to help carry on their race. Many of the tribes resorted to kidnap and human trafficking in order to reproduce."

Zelda blinked up at him curiously, having only learned – or at least retained – the basics of their society, this was coming as new information.

Her eyes scrutinized his features. Sand had settled in his short black beard, his dark hair was matted with sweat to his forehead. His face was angular and pointed, typical traits of a Hylian. His frame was broad and tall, reflecting a warrior's physique.

No one could compare to her father, the King; there was none who could ever match his might, and that thought made pride swell up in her. She was proud to be the daughter of such a great man.

Even under the overwhelming heat of the desert he stood firm and tall, as if able to bear all the world's harshness with little effort.

"That was when they died out, wasn't it?" she asked, expecting his confirmation.

Instead he shook his head. "Some of the great tribes did, but others were wise and set forth to Central Hyrule where they assimilated with the people. They kept their own cultures among themselves, but also accustomed themselves to the culture of the areas they inhabited. As a reward, the Goddess Din granted them the ability to bear sons. So even though they aren't distinctly a separate people, their lines will not die out. Many a redhead you see today may have Gerudo blood in them."

She wrinkled her nose as she thought of one of the noble boys her age who sometimes took lessons with her while his father was visiting the castle. He was scrawny and timid, often stuttering and losing his glasses. Luthar was his name, and he bore a wavy head full of, almost like blood, red hair. He annoyed her to no end. He couldn't possibly be descended from great warriors.

"Do you remember the Hyrulean motto?"

Zelda nodded. "The worth of the individual."

He affirmed this with a smile. "Yes, it matters not what race or gender one is. By limiting the life options of the people simply because they do not meet specific genetic criteria it hinders society as a whole. Women who could have become great are rendered docile housewives; zoras who may have excelled in academics and helped further advance the system would have had lesser occupations merely because they weren't accepted into the Hylian universities."

Zelda nodded in understanding. Hyrule was one of the few countries that prided themselves on their openness to any and all who are capable. They lived by their motto; it was practically adapted as a law of Hyrule.

"I say this to you because the people we are going to meet are not like any of the races you are familiar with," he told her softly, but Zelda could detect the hidden warning in his tone. "You must be respectful and kind. Do not judge based on their appearance or accent. Do you understand this?"

Zelda was now more curious than ever. She was anxious to meet these people and see what they were like. "Of course father."

"That's my little girl," he said, lips stretching in a broad grin.

Ahead of them a tall jut of stone appeared in the distance. The King led them straight to it and was in so good a mood that he carried her the last bit of the way.

She touched firm soil, grateful that her boots no longer sunk into the ground. Brightly, she looked up at her father only to pause as she saw him glancing towards the sky, brows knit as he watched the sun sink beneath the horizon.

Rolling his shoulders, he brushed a spot of sand off his cloak then took off his pack, rummaging through it. "We'll spend the night here. Come, we need to gather wood from that tree over there and start a fire."

Surprised, Zelda glanced up and indeed there was a tree, twisted and dry, standing alone near the face of the rock. How odd it was to find something living so far into this dead wasteland.

She started as her father gathered a few of its fallen branches and then hacked at one of the limbs with a dagger. "But - but it's too hot for a fire."

He chuckled a deep-throated sound. "You'll think different come night," he said, turning with a big pile of dried wood in his arms. "Now help me with these."

Obediently, albeit very confused, she went to help him. When they had a decent sized stack and more to the side to feed the fire, her father reclined against the rock face and gathered her up in his arms to lean against him. They ate dried meat and bread from their packs. When her father passed her the water flask Zelda frowned at the tepid temperature of it, but did not complain. It was good enough that she got to moisten her mouth and throat.

Zelda shivered at the sudden chill in the air. Her father drew his cloak over the both of them and held her close, sharing heat. "During the day the desert is as hot as Din's forge, but come night all the warmth vanishes and it becomes cold as winter."

She nodded and pressed close against his chest, absorbing as much of his warmth as she could. Once the sun had fully descended and the moon came out her father raised his arm and flicked his fingers towards the wood, igniting the logs. She watched as the flame ate at the dry kindling and grew taller.

"Don't stare at the fire," her father said abruptly. "Keep your eyes adjusted to the darkness, look within the night, that way you are not blinded to the things around you."

She would have listened to his advice were it not for the sudden heaviness of her eyelids as exhaustion stole over her. Her body had been taxed from their long venture and it was a relief to finally be able to rest. She fell asleep listening to the reassuring thumping of his heart.

By morning the next day, Zelda found she had quite a bit more energy in her reserves. She trod along quietly humming next to her father as she swung their entwined hands. She had never spent this much time with just her and father. Never! She felt so lucky that right now she had him all to herself.

The searing heat of the sun and the glare of the sand no longer bothered her as much as it had the day before. Whether that was due to her lively mood or whether she had become accustomed to it was questionable. Harkinians were above all adaptable, father had told her once. The land may change, the world may fall in and out of darkness, yet the Harkinian line lived on, relying on their strength and resilience.

The sun beat down upon them as they encountered a fissure, breaking the ground in a long stretch of darkness. Zelda peaked down attempting to see the bottom, but it appeared to be endless, that or too dark to make out its base.

Another fissure appeared before them, the same bleak and endless chasm as the last. Past this they arrived at a slope veering downward.

Her father flicked his sword and sheathed it after slaying a pack of leaping moldorms, burrowing worms with triangulate mouths filled with vicious teeth. He Fixed his cloak and swiped his hair back. "That should be the end of them. For some reason or another moldorms do not venture on this lower level."

Thank Din for that. Just the sight of those flesh-eating worms made her stomach turn in nasty twists.

It was another two hour walk before there was anything substantial to be seen, and when Zelda did spy something in the distance her squinting eyes gradually grew larger and larger as the hulking edifice came into full form before her.

She stood in the shadow of a multi-towered colossus, constructed of sandstone and replete with multifarious structural fallibilities. It resonated spiritual energy and Zelda felt something within her stir at the sight. A face suddenly flashed before her eyes. A dark-skinned man, heavily laden with chains, his expression ruthless, one filled with the promise of vengeance.

Strong arms grasped her shoulders and steadied her. She had not realized that she had swooned until she was peering into a familiar pair of pale blue eyes.

"Zelda, are you well? Do you need water?" Her father pressed the back of his hand against her cheek. "The heat must be affecting you more than I thought it would."

Once she found her bearings she staggered away, rubbing her eyes. "I thought I saw…"

But something told her to keep quiet. What had she seen exactly? Whose was that face, so bitter and vile?

"Delusions," stated her father simply. Reaching into his pack he withdrew the water skin. "Drink up. Once we reach the grounds we can rest in the shade."

She drank deeply then shook her head. "We don't need to. I want to keep going."

Her father stared at her searchingly. At length he nodded. "Very well. However, if you suffer any more delusions we stop and take a break."

It was acceptable, she supposed. There was little bartering with the King. On they went, through the grounds and up a grand staircase leading into the structure. Then she stepped past the threshold.

It was as if walking into a tomb. Four sconces set on tall stalks of sandstone glowed with a blue fire, the only illumination in the chamber. The air was musty and stale, sand dusted every surface, and round bleached object lay randomly strewn on the ground. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest as she realized that they were skulls.

Her father kept a supportive hand on her shoulder and for that she was thankful. Doubtless she wouldn't have had the courage to continue on without his ever-abiding presence beside her.

"We're almost there," he said, voice sturdy and reassuring. Biting her bottom lip, she nodded and together they ventured up the stairs and through to the second chamber.

Throughout the dungeon he made her wait by the door as he completed the puzzles of each room. She watched as he precariously stepped onto a narrow strip of stone with tracks on the side and balanced stiffly as he crossed it, how he grappled, climbed and fought his way past each stage, collecting keys that vanished right after their use, returning to their chests, he had informed her. The dungeon was by no means sentient, it was alive and it tested whatever adventurers braved its halls, providing them with the means to make it through, while at the same time challenging them.

At last they made it to an enormous round chamber with a pool of sand, and in the center, half buried within the sand were the skeletal remain of a massive behemoth.

Zelda stared wide-eyed at the skull, four horns grew from the side of its head, and planted in its forehead, deeply imbedded were a series of pikes, weapons that had contributed to slaying the beast. Father hopped right in the sand, cutting straight across to the skull before turning to her and patting the giant mass of bone above the eye socket.

"A formidable dragon in his day, I wager," he said, and flicked his hand in a gesture for her to come closer. "It is harmless now, merely a corpse."

Still Zelda hesitated as she slowly approached the creature. Her gaze was drawn by the deep black hollows in its head where its eyes would have been, imagining she could see a glint of red within.

"See here it ends at the waist. During an attack its body was cleaved in half. It then dragged itself to this chamber to seal itself within the walls so it could recuperate, but before it could bar the doors the men battling it rushed in and it was finally defeated."

Goddesses, what a nightmare it must have been. She couldn't imagine fighting such a monster, nor did she ever want to.

"Was it truly that evil?"

Her father then pointed and her eyes followed the direction of his finger to its mouth. "You see its teeth? Those are meant to tear into flesh, and by its size it would have had to hunt for large prey, that means livestock or men, or the Gerudo, if it existed that far back. It had once been Lord of the desert, all who wandered within its domain would have been susceptible to attack. At some point it must have found and claimed the Arbiter's Grounds for itself, and used it as its castle," he said. Zelda listened with rapt attention.

"Since large enough food must have been rare, it had to feed on rats to stave off starvation. You see how large its nasal cavity is?" He indicated the spot. "It had a good olfactory system. I wouldn't doubt it could scent fresh meat from far across the desert; all it had to do was stand in one of its tower and breathe in whatever carried on the wind and when it detected something it went to hunt. People and animals would be consumed on the spot, and if it was not starving it carried its prey across the desert to store within these walls to eat later. It would have gorged itself during the desert campaigns and that was likely what attracted the people's attention to it. Stories had carried for years of the curse of the wasteland. People ventured in and disappeared forever, and now they knew why."

Tentatively she reached out and touched the coarse remains, fingers drifting along the cheekbone. As horrified as she was in the creature, she was also in awe of it.

"Is this really true?" she asked.

Her father saw her awe-filled expression and smiled at her. "Honestly, I haven't the faintest."

She snapped her gaze up. Had he really just fibbed to her? It was a magnificent story, either way, it was just disappointing that it hadn't actually happened.

"This is simply my theory, formed during the many years that I've come here," he explained. "I simply took the pieces of evidence and added it all up."

Her brows knit in a frown. "So no one really knows what happened?"

Shrugging, he replied succinctly, "as far as I know. I have not even found records in the Hyrulean annals. But then again the beast was conquered by Holodrum soldiers so the story is lost to us."

"How do you know it was Holodrum soldiers?"

He jerked his chin. "In its head, the spears are of Holodrum make from the third age I believe. Which is why I also believe that the creature was slain during the campaigns. We had once been at war with Holodrum. Back then the desert would have been swarming with the enemy and our own troops."

All this information he had gathered just from mere observation? It was amazing how perceptive her father was, and how knowledgeable.

He placed a hand on her back, between the shoulder blades. "We should get going."

It slightly surprised her that upon opening the next door it was to the outside.

"One last set of stairs and we'll have reached our destination," said her father.

They mounted the stairs, her father assisting her across the few gaps, until they reached the summit where they were faced with a curving wall on one side with an equally curving wall, but one filled with archways, on the other. Further along the solid wall ended and they were met with the sight of an amphitheater in which stood a large statue of a woman with one of those tracks spiraling upward around her.

"That statue is a depiction of the Goddess of the sand," her father informed her and she gaped at it.

"Then… Is this the Spirit Temple?" How she had always wanted to visit the ancient temples. Many had long been lost to the world over time, like the spirit temple and the forest temple, but some, like the water temple, were still tended to today.

He chuckled at her excited tone. "Although this place does possess spiritual energy, no it isn't the Spirit Temple." Zelda could not help the disappointed frown from forming on her face. "However, it was constructed by the Gerudo, there's none better able to work with sandstone. If you had paid attention through the grounds you would have noticed the Gerudo inscriptions upon the walls."

She nodded. She had noticed and even been able to read some of the words.

"But I'm afraid the purpose for this place is not at all similar to the Spirit Temple," the King went on, plodding forward. "The Spirit Temple was a place of worship to the Goddess of the sands. Do you know what the term Arbiter means?"

She pondered for a minute but in the end shook her head. It rankled her that she didn't know. She was the purveyor of wisdom, she was supposed to possess knowledge beyond the ordinary.

He pat her soft fringe endearingly, as if reading her mind. "It is alright, that is why you are learning. How can you know something that you haven't been taught." This soothed her slightly, but the irritation she felt remained. "An Arbiter is one who gives out judgment. This stronghold was once the grounds for sentencing the most vilest of criminals, most of whom were either executed or banished to a different realm."

Uneasiness tore through her. "Then why are we here?" Was there someone that needed to be banished now? Was he teaching her how to give out punishment?

He tenderly grasped her hand. "None of that now," he said lightly, leading her to a raised platform before which a great round disc was mounted. "It is Twilight. Time to begin."

He let go of her hand before raising his arm before him, palm exposed and fingers spread, muttering an incantation under his breath. Zelda stood beside him, barely coming up to his waist, and watched. A beam of light flashed from his hand and hit the disc, lighting it up. It's surface changed from stone to black marble, white markings appeared, spinning in opposing directions.

The surface flashed and Zelda covered her eyes as the brightness proved too harsh for her vision. It abated and slowly she dropped her hands and gasped.

The disc was in fact a mirror, but instead of finding her own reflection staring back at her, two very different people stood in the mirror, one much taller than the other, both clothed darkly and possessing the most outlandish blue skin, matched with bright red hair.

"King Daran," her father nodded, and to her surprise the taller figure in the mirror nodded back.

"King Daphnes."

Zelda stared at the other King, his bearing regal and tall, his limbs and torso, she noted, had a stretched-like quality, his eyes were a piercing yellow and they shone from beneath his darkened hood. He was odd and intimidating, and Zelda was very glad that he was somewhere on the other side of that mirror.

"Zelda," said her father with an air of formality. "This is King Daran and Princess Midna of the Twilight Realm who preside over the Twili."

Zelda's eyes then focused on the smaller figure, a young Princess, just like her. Midna stood slouched to the side, hip jut out and expression aloof, although Zelda figured it was to mask her nervousness. Her eyes met Zelda's and they sparkled with curiosity.

"Princess Midna, this is Princess Zelda, my daughter," said her father before he and the Twilight King officially began the meeting with a discussion of politics.

The girl was about her age. Vibrant red hair cropped to her shoulders and curled around her face in a fetching fashion, partially pinned back by an obsidian hair accessory. Zelda stared at Midna as she stared back at her own cherub face, both undeniably fascinated with the other.

They faced each other, red eyes against blue, twilight and light. Both of them heirs to the throne, the future Queens of their realms.

It was clear to her now. Her father had brought her here in order to forge early relations with an allied nation, despite the fact that it was in another realm. Her father only introduced her to those he deemed of utmost importance. Their standing among the Twili must be vital then, for him to bring her in such a secretive method. Did no one else know of the Twili? Or was her father somehow ashamed of his association with them?

Midna suddenly opened her mouth and Zelda was half-afraid she'd unveil a full set of razor sharp teeth. To her relief they were flat and normal, but for two sets of pointed canines.

"Hey…" she said softly, almost inaudible over the volume of their fathers' conversation.

Hesitantly, Zelda responded, nervously brushing her hair behind her ear. "Hi…"

They then lapsed into a tense silence, both apprehensive of the other, neither knowing what to say or do. It was by no means awkward. From a young age, Zelda had been taught that a situation is only awkward if one makes it so, and as a royal it was practically forbid. People became awkward around her, never the other way around, but she could admit that this meeting made her feel a mite uneasy. It was calm contemplation.

Could she…touch the mirror? And if she did, would she go right through it to the world of Twilight?

For a second she imagined herself and Midna playing together, taking lessons together and growing up together. They could be friends rather than diplomatic acquaintances, and since they were of equal status she wouldn't have to worry about Midna fawning over her because she was the Princess. They could get into fights, yell at each other and make up afterwards like she'd seen some of the other noble children do. Not one of her noble cohorts would dare get mad at her, much less raise their voices to her.

Although she was being silent, the Twilight Princess carried a certain knowing glint in her eyes. She'd be the mischievous one, always rousing Zelda to ire, convincing her to participate in risky and childish endeavors, like stealing into the kitchens at night for treats, or setting cuccos loose in the castle. While Zelda would be the moralistic, responsible one, always trying to convince her out of it but following along anyways in the end and feeling utterly contrite whenever they got caught.

She had an urge to ask her father why they could not visit the Twilight Realm, why they had to meet in this in between zone, however the question died in her throat the moment she looked up at him. She recognized the tension in his jaw, the set of his shoulders and the seriousness in his eyes. It was how he faced with political dignitaries at court, those that Hyrule was not in very good standings with, people of which he had to tread cautiously.

He acted as if King Daran of the Twili was a threat.

Would she be like this someday while talking to Midna? She looked back at the other Princess and noted nothing threatening about her. But as her father said, what was seemingly a harmless pup could one day become a dangerous wolfos.

It made her worry. Was this tension between their nations to be set in stone? Would she and Midna carry on this strained relationship? And why was it strained? What form of clemency could be offered to the other?

"Very well," said her father abruptly, snapping her out of her musings. "We shall reconvene in another half a year."

King Daran of the Twili nodded then gave them his back as he turned to leave. Midna went to follow after him but then paused, glancing one last time at her. Zelda kept her gaze, oddly curious.

The Twilight Princess offered up a small smile accompanied by a twinkle of the eyes. "See you later…"

Shyly, Zelda sent a small wave. "Bye."

And then she was gone and the mirror reverted back to stone. She scrutinized the disc a moment longer.

Her father's footsteps tapping on stone signified that it was time to depart. Hurriedly she scampered down the platform and swiftly came up beside him.

"When will I see her again?" she questioned eagerly, causing her father's step to falter. He quickly recovered himself, however, as they exited the amphitheater.

"If you are asking to accompany me again in six months time, the answer is no," he responded firmly. "I only allowed you to come this time because you are now eleven and as future ruler you have a right to know about the other realm. It is to be kept secret, Zelda. No one, not even your tutors and friends can know about this."

Not that she had any friends she considered herself close enough to confide in. And telling her tutors hadn't even crossed her mind.

They made their way down the stairs, and she gripped onto her father's shoulders as he carried her across one of the gaps. "Is there a way to the other side? Can we visit the Twilight?"

Her father sighed as he set her down then gazed hard at her. "Beware the Twili, Zelda," he said ominously. "In them is spite and hatred, for they are the descendants of the banished ones. Our relation with them is a fragile one; one that took many hard years to form. We do not trespass in their lands and they stay away from ours. Such is the way it has been for generations. Now come, we will use one of the anterooms to sleep then leave by morning."

This time she was not afraid to pass the skeleton of the behemoth, after hearing her father's story she found herself more fascinated by it than fearful. Wearily, they settled into one of the smaller rooms, one with the enemies already defeated by her father, and prepared to sleep.

Against the soft glow of the torchlight, resting against her father's sturdy chest, her mind wandered inevitably back to Midna, the Twilight Princess. It would be a pity if relations between them remained as they were. Idly she wondered… would they ever be able to meet face to face, with no separation? Was it even possible?

Somehow she felt that if and when they did, it would result in the shattering of all the apparent hostility between their races. They'd truly be friends.

One day maybe, when she took up the mantle as Queen, she could make it happen.

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><p><strong>AN: Not much interaction between the two, unfortunately. Some foreshadowing here and there, its all rather easy to spot.**

**Hope you all enjoyed this little piece.**


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